


What We Built

by prettydamnlame



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 16:05:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10222121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettydamnlame/pseuds/prettydamnlame
Summary: Josh is worried about the future. Tyler is worried about Josh.





	

Josh felt heavy.

He felt as if he was covered in layers of thick, black tar; the kind of heavy coating that made it difficult to move, or think, or even speak coherently. He had been standing under a dangerously hot shower for an indeterminable amount of time, hoping the scalding heat of the water would get rid of the feeling. The hotter the water, he had told himself, the more likely this feeling of sluggishness would be burned away and only the happy-go-lucky, smiley Joshua Dun that the world loved and wanted to see would remain.

Josh’s legs trembled suddenly, reminding him that his body couldn’t take much more of the scalding heat. He definitely couldn’t remember how long he’d been in this shower.

Over the hissing of the water, he could hear a faint knocking at the hotel room door. Turning the taps off agonisingly slowly, the drummer wrapped a towel around his waist and went to open the door. His best friend and bandmate had his fist raised in the air, ready to knock again.

“Dude, you’re… pink.” Tyler gestured at the scalded tinge to Josh’s bare chest.

“I was in the shower,” Josh heard himself say dully, turning away like an automaton, without inviting the lead singer in.

Tyler moved into the hotel room anyway, closing the door behind himself with a concerned expression moving over his face. “What are you feeling for dinner tonight?” He continued forcedly casually. “Chipotle?”

“’M not hungry,” Josh replied in the same empty voice, disappearing into the bathroom again. He returned moments later, still topless but the towel around his waist was gone and replaced by some Adidas sweatpants. “Kinda just wanna… sleep.”

“Josh… look at me. _Josh_ ,” Tyler said a little more forcefully. “ _Look at me_.”

The drummer forced himself to look up at this friend.

Deep brown eyes met his and began searching immediately, desperate to find the source of the hurt. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel… I’m feeling bad.” Josh got out in between long, controlled breaths, a coping mechanism he had learnt over the years, that kept a round of wild sobbing at bay. “I can’t stop thinking about… the future… _what’s next_ … ”

“Josh… ” Tyler’s voice was always melody to Josh’s ears, a gentle hum in the air as the singer pulled his bandmate into a gentle embrace. “Everyone’s world turns on a fixed point, right?”

The drummer didn’t understand at all, but he nodded into his best friend’s chest anyway as they stood, arms wrapped around each other, in the middle of his hotel room.

“And I’ll tell you what our fixed point is. Our band. What we’ve built together.”

“What _you_ built.” Josh mumbled.

“What _we_ built.” Tyler insisted, genuinely mystified at the thought that Josh could think Twenty One Pilots would be anything without one half of its soul. “What happens next is what _we_ decide.” The singer paused for a moment, ruminating on his bandmate’s fragile state. “But you don’t have to worry about any of that if you don’t want to, because I’ll keep on making the decisions for as long as you want, as long as you need... ” Another pause, and this time Tyler’s voice shook a little as he spoke again: “I just need you… I need you to stay with me.”

It was Tyler’s worst nightmare: Josh leaving the band. Josh leaving _him_.

Josh’s head moved from Tyler's chest to his shoulder, letting out a sigh as he did so. “Like I’d ever leave. Where would I go without you?”

The drummer watched Tyler’s thin lips pull upwards into a grateful smile, and he felt the first tendrils of something warm wind their way back into his being after what felt like days of only the bitterest cold.

“There’s nowhere that wouldn’t want you.” Tyler assured his best friend, his voice thick with emotion. “There’s no one that would turn you away, Josh. You make things better just by being around.”

Josh squeezed his arms even tighter around Tyler’s chest for a few moments, a silent _thankyou_ , before letting go and stepping away.

“Chipotle?” The drummer asked as he turned back to Tyler after pulling a shirt on.

Tyler nodded. “Chipotle.”

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe Chipotle will be our always.


End file.
